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5 Favorite Books....#3

I remember clearly where I was when I read my next favorite book. I was living in Juneau, Alaska at the time. Cheney and I had been married for about 6 months and I was a full-time substitute teacher in the Juneau School District. On this particular day I was working in a Montessori classroom at Harborview Elementary. The teacher had left detailed plans for me that day. At several times during the day, I was instructed to read aloud from the book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. He had even left very strict instructions not to read past a certain page because he wanted to be present to see the reaction of his students. I can remember reading the section I was told to, but not wanting to put the book down. When students were working independently, I was reading the book from the beginning. I subbed in the room for 3 days and was unable to finish the book, so I rushed to the bookstore in the Nugget Mall to purchase it only to discover it was sold out.

Yes, I know that Harry Potter is a children's book -but, it is a very well written children's book. It has also been the source of some controversy over the years between groups of people. I LOVE the ENTIRE series! I've devoured them several times over, waited in line for their release, and cried when the last book was written. I know - weird right??? I have felt like I've become personal friends with the characters and have walked in the places they have walked.

This story is a classic good versus evil where good prevails!! I am amazed at the creativity and imagination that exudes from the pages of JK Rowling's timeless classic. I recently watched a movie about how she created this story and I was fascinated with the process. Did you know she wrote the last chapter of the last book first??? When the first book was published, it was only published in England. When Scholastic purchased the American publishing rights to the book, the publishing house paid more for them than for any other children's book. In 3 years, Mrs. Rowling went from being a single mom on welfare to one of the most wealthy women in England.

I'm living in a house that was purchased in 1960 and had one owner. When we moved in, it was full of a life that was lived.

Since we've moved into it, we have spent hours sorting through vacation souvenirs, family photos, handmade clothes, kitchen supplies, closets full of linens and the likes.

Through this "cleaning" we have noticed how the person who lived here tried her best to keep her home in the best shape possible, even when she wasn't able. Tonight as we cleaned the master bedroom in preparation to rip the carpet up and paint the walls, we discovered mini-blinds that were taped together with kleenex to block the light out and chipped paint held in place from the places it was falling by scotch tape. While it is a nuisance to remove from the walls, the scotch tape struck a chord with me and immediately saddened me upon its sight.

Here was a precious woman holding together something she found precious with scotch tape. It immediately led me to think …

The paintings of Monet have always inspired me - the strokes that appear random upon close inspection of a canvas takes on a different appearance the further away you position yourself from the piece. Slowly images begin to appear and make sense to the observer. The strokes that appeared sloppily orchestrated up close or even appeared as possible mistakes, now create the delicate petals of water lilies on the surface of a pond. Instead of images becoming clearer the closer you step, focus appears as you take in the entire masterpiece.

I've been contemplating the large masterpiece of my life recently. For so long I've been focused on the individual brushstrokes that don't make sense. I can't piece them together. The blues, pinks, and purples that are smeared across the canvas - the heartache, the challenges, the questions, the difficulties - I can't see the entire canvas, yet. But, I know who does. The one who knows the very number of the hairs on my head.